The steamer Hercules--Syracuse--Neapolis--Ruins--Catanea--Convent of
St. Nicholas--Messina--The Duke of Calabria--Palermo--The royal
palace--Church of St. Theresa--St. Ignazio--Catacombs of the
Augustine convent--Skeletons--Olivuzza --Royal villa "Favorite"--St.
Rosalia--Brutality of the Italian mob--Luxuriant vegetation--Arrival
at Naples.
October 4th.
At eight o'clock in the evening I embarked on board the Sicilian
steamer Hercules, of 260-horse power, the largest and finest vessel
I had yet seen. The officers here were not nearly so haughty and
disobliging as those on board the Eurotas. Even now I cannot think
without a smile of the airs the captain of the latter vessel gave
himself. He appeared to consider that he had as good a right to be
an admiral as Bruys.
At ten o'clock we steamed out of the harbour of Lavalette. As it
was already dark night, I went below and retired to rest.
October 5th.
When I hurried on deck this morning I found we were already in sight
of the Sicilian coast, and--oh happiness!--I could distinguish green
hills, wooded mountains, glorious dells, and smiling meadows,--a
spectacle I had enjoyed neither in Syria, in Egypt, nor even at
Malta. Now I thought at length to behold Europe, for Malta
resembles the Syrian regions too closely to favour the idea that we
are really in Europe. Towards eleven o'clock we reached
SYRACUSE.
Unfortunately we could only get four hours' leave of absence. As
several gentlemen among the passengers wished to devote these few
hours to seeing all the lions of this once rich and famous town, I
joined their party and went ashore with them. Scarcely had we
landed before we were surrounded by a number of servants and a mob
of curious people, so that we were almost obliged to make our way
forcibly through the crowd. The gentlemen hired a guide, and
desired to be at once conducted to a restaurateur, who promised to
prepare them a modest luncheon within half an hour. The prospect of
a good meal seemed of more importance in the eyes of my fellow-
passengers than any thing else. They resolved to have luncheon
first, and afterwards to take a little walk through the city.
On hearing this I immediately made a bargain with a cicerone to shew
me what he could in four hours, and went with him, leaving the
company seated at table. Though I got nothing to eat to-day but a
piece of bread and a few figs, which I despatched on the road, I saw
some sights which I would not have missed for the most sumptuous
entertainment.
Of the once spacious town nothing remains but a very small portion,
inhabited by 10,000 persons at most. The dirty streets were every
where crowded with people, as though they dwelt out of doors, while
the houses stood empty.
Accompanied by my guide, I passed hastily through the new town, and
over three or four wooden bridges to Neapolis, the part of ancient
Syracuse in which monuments of the past are seen in the best state
of preservation. First we came to the theatre. This building is
tolerably well preserved, and several of the stone seats are still
seen rising in terrace form one above the other. From this place we
betook ourselves into the amphitheatre, which is finer by far, and
where we find passages leading to the wild beasts' dens, and above
them rows of seats for spectators; all is in such good condition
that it might, at a trifling expense, be so far repaired as to be
made again available for its original purpose. Now we proceeded to
the "Ear of Dionysius," with which I was particularly struck. It
consists of a number of chambers, partly hewn out of the rock by
art, partly formed by nature, and all opening into an immensely
lofty hall, which becomes narrower and narrower towards the top,
until it at length terminates in an aperture so minute as to be
invisible from below. To this aperture Dionysius is said to have
applied his ear, in order to overhear what the captives spoke.
(This place is stated to have been used as a prison for slaves and
malefactors.) It is usual to fire a pistol here, that the stranger
may hear the reverberating echoes. A lofty opening, resembling a
great gate, forms the entrance to these rocky passages. Overgrown
with ivy, it has rather the appearance of a bower than of a place of
terror and anguish. Several of these side halls are now used as
workshops by rope-makers, while in others the manufacture of
saltpetre is carried on. The region around is rocky, but without
displaying any high mountains. I saw numerous grottoes, some of
them with magnificent entrances, which looked as though they had
been cut in the rocks by art. In one of these grottoes water fell
from above, forming a very pretty cataract.
During this excursion the time had passed so rapidly that I was soon
compelled to think, not of a visit to the catacombs, but of my
return on board.
I proceeded to the sea-shore, where the Syracusans have built a very
pretty promenade, and was rowed back to the steamer.
Of all the passengers I was the only one who had seen any thing of
Syracuse; all the rest had spent the greater part of the time
allowed them in the inn, and at most had been for a short walk in
the town. But they had obtained an exceedingly good dinner; and
thus we had each enjoyed ourselves in our own way.
At three o'clock we quitted the beautiful harbour of Syracuse, and
three hours brought us to
CATANEA.
This voyage was one of the most beautiful and interesting that can
be imagined. The traveller continually sees the most charming
landscapes of blooming Sicily; and at Syracuse we can already descry
on a clear day the giant Etna rearing its head 10,000 feet above the
level of the sea.
At six in the evening we disembarked; but those going farther had to
be on board again by midnight. I had intended to remain at Catanea
and ascend Mount Etna; but on making inquiries I was assured that
the season was too far advanced for such an undertaking, and
therefore resolved to set sail again at midnight. I went on shore
in company with a Neapolitan and his wife, for the purpose of
visiting some of the churches, a few public buildings, and the town
itself. The buildings, however, were already closed, though the
exteriors promised much. We could only deplore that we had arrived
an hour too late, and take a walk round the town. I could scarcely
wonder enough at the bustle in the crowded squares and chief
streets, and at the shouting and screaming of the people. The
number of inhabitants is about 50,000. The two chief streets,
leading in different directions from the great square, are long,
broad, and particularly well paved with large stone slabs: they
contain many magnificent houses. The only circumstance which
displeased me was, that every where, even in the chief streets, the
people dry clothes on large poles at balconies and windows. This
makes the town look as though it were inhabited by a race of
washerwomen. I should not even mind so much if they were clean
clothes; but I frequently saw the most disgusting rags fluttering in
front of splendid houses. Unfortunately this barbarous custom
prevails throughout the whole of Sicily; and even in Naples the
hanging out of clothes is only forbidden in the principal street,
the Toledo: all the other streets are full of linen.
Among the equipages, which were rolling to and fro in great numbers,
I noticed some very handsome ones. Some were standing still in the
great square, while their occupants amused themselves by looking at
the bustle around them, and chatted with friends and acquaintances
who crowded round the carriages. I found a greater appearance of
life here than either at Naples or Palermo.
The convent of St. Nicholas was unfortunately closed, so that we
could only view its exterior. It is a spacious magnificent
building, the largest, in fact, in the whole town. We also looked
at the walks on the sea-shore, which at our first arrival we had
traversed in haste in order to reach the town quickly. Beautiful
avenues extend along each side of the harbour; they are, however,
less frequented than the streets and squares. We had a beautiful
moonlight night; the promontory of Etna, with its luxurious
vegetation, as well as the giant mountain itself, were distinctly
visible in all their glory. The summit rose cloudless and free; no
smoke came from the crater, nor could we discover a trace of snow as
we returned to our ship. We noticed several heaps of lava piled
upon the sea-shore, of a perfectly black colour.
Late in the evening we adjourned to an inn to refresh ourselves with
some good dishes, and afterwards returned to the steamer, which
weighed anchor at midnight.
October 6th.
We awoke in the harbour of Messina. The situation of this town is
lovely beyond description. I was so charmed with it that I stood
for a long time on deck without thinking of landing.
A chain of beautiful hills and huge masses of rock in the background
surround the harbour and town. Every where the greatest fertility
reigns, and all things are in the most thriving and flourishing
condition. In the direction of Palermo the boundless ocean is
visible.
I now bade farewell to the splendid steamer Hercules, because I did
not intend to proceed direct to Naples, but to make a detour by way
of Palermo.
As soon as I had landed, I proceeded to the office of the merchant
M., to whom I had a letter of recommendation. I requested Herr M.
to procure me a cicerone as soon as possible, as I wished to see the
sights of Messina, and afterwards to continue my journey to Palermo.
Herr M. was kind enough to send one of his clerks with me. I rested
for half an hour, and then commenced my peregrination.
From the steamer Messina had appeared to me a very narrow place, but
on entering the town I found that I had made quite a false estimate
of its dimensions. Messina is certainly built in a very straggling
oblong form, but still its breadth is not inconsiderable.
I saw many very beautiful squares; for instance, the chief square,
with its splendid fountain ornamented with figures, and a bas-relief
of carved work in bronze. Every square contains a fountain, but we
seldom find any thing particularly tasteful. The churches are not
remarkable for the beauty of their facades, nor do they present any
thing in the way of marble statues or finely executed pictures.
The houses are generally well built, with flat roofs; the streets,
with few exceptions, are narrow, small, and very dirty. An
uncommonly broad street runs parallel with the harbour, and
contains, on one side at least, some very handsome houses. This is
a favourite place for a walk, for we can here see all the bustle and
activity of the port. Several of the palaces also are pretty; that
appropriated to the senate is the only one which can be called fine,
the staircase being constructed entirely of white marble, in a
splendid style of architecture: the halls and apartments are lofty,
and generally arched. The regal palace is also a handsome pile.
In the midst of the town I found an agreeable public garden. The
Italians appear, however, to choose the streets as places of
rendezvous, in preference to enclosures of this kind; for every
where I noticed that the garden-walks were empty, and the streets
full. But on the whole there is not nearly so much life here as at
Catanea. In order to obtain a view of the whole of Messina and its
environs I ascended a hill near the town, surmounted by a Capuchin
convent; here I enjoyed a prospect which I have seldom seen
equalled. As I gazed upon it I could easily imagine that an
inhabitant of Messina can find no place in the world so beautiful as
his native town.
The promontory against which the town leans is clothed with a carpet
of the brightest green, planted with fruit-trees of all kinds, and
enlivened with scattered towns, villages, and country seats.
Beautiful roads, appearing like white bands, intersect the mountains
on every side in the direction of the town. The background is
closed by high mountains, sometimes wooded, sometimes bare, now
rising in the form of alps, now in the shape of rocky masses. At
the foot of the hills we see the long-drawn town, the harbour with
its numerous ships, and beyond it groups of alps and rocks. The
boundless sea flows on the spectator's right and left towards
Palermo and Naples, while in the direction of Catanea the eye is
caught by mountains, with Etna towering among them.
The same evening I embarked on board the Duke of Calabria, for the
short trip of twelve or fourteen hours to Palermo. This steamer has
only engines of 80 horse-power, and every thing connected with it is
small and confined. The first-class accommodation is indeed pretty
good, but the second-class places are only calculated to contain
very few passengers. Though completely exhausted by my long and
fatiguing walk through Messina, I remained on deck, for I could not
be happy without seeing Stromboli. Unfortunately I could
distinguish very little of it. We had started from Messina at about
six o'clock in the evening, and did not come in sight of the
mountain until two hours later, when the shades of night were
already descending; we were, besides, at such a distance from it
that I could descry nothing but a colossal mass rising from the sea
and towering towards heaven. I stayed on deck until past ten
o'clock in the hope of obtaining a nearer view of Stromboli; but we
had soon left it behind us in the far distance, with other islands
which lay on the surface like misty clouds.
October 7th.
To-day I hastened on deck before sunrise, to see as much as possible
of the Sicilian coast, and to obtain an early view of Palermo. At
ten o'clock we ran into the harbour of this town.
I had been so charmed with the situation of Messina that I did not
expect ever to behold any thing more lovely; and yet the remembrance
of this town faded from my mind when
PALERMO
rose before me, surrounded by magnificent mountains, among which the
colossal rock of St. Rosalia, a huge slab of porphyry and granite,
towered high in the blue air. The combination of various colours
unites with its immense height and its peculiar construction to
render this mountain one of the most remarkable in existence. Its
summit is crowned by a temple; and a good road, partly cut out of
the rock, partly supported on lofty pillars of masonry, which we can
see from on board our vessel, leads to the convent of St. Rosalia,
and to a chapel hidden among the hills and dedicated to the same
saint.
At the foot of this mountain lies a gorgeous castle, inhabited, as
my captain told me, by an English family, who pay a yearly rent of
30,000 florins for the use of it. To the left of Palermo the
mountains open and shew the entrance into a broad and transcendently
beautiful valley, in which the town of Monreal lies with magical
effect. Several of these gaps occur along the coast, affording
glimpses of the most lovely vales, with scattered villages and
pretty country-seats.
The harbour of Palermo is picturesque and eminently safe. The town
numbers about 130,000 inhabitants. Here, too, our deck was crowded
with Fachini, innkeepers, and guides, before the anchor was fairly
lowered. I inquired of the captain respecting the price of board
and lodging, and afterwards made a bargain with a host before
leaving the ship. By following this plan I generally escaped
overcharge and inconvenience.
Arrived at the inn, I sent to Herr Schmidt, to whom I had been
recommended, with the request that he would despatch a trustworthy
cicerone to me, and make me a kind of daily scheme of what I was to
see. This was soon done, and after hurrying over my dinner I
commenced my wanderings.
I entered almost every church I passed on my way, and found them all
neat and pretty. Every where I came upon picturesque villas and
handsome houses, with glass doors instead of windows, their lower
portion guarded by iron railings and forming little balconies. Here
the women and girls sit of an evening working and talking to their
heart's content.
The streets of Palermo are far handsomer and cleaner than those of
Messina. The principal among them, Toledo and Casaro, divide the
town into four parts, and join in the chief square. The streets, as
we pass from one into another, present a peculiar appearance, filled
with bustling crowds of people moving noisily to and fro. In the
Toledo Street all the tailors seem congregated together, for the
shops on each side of the way are uniformly occupied by the votaries
of this trade, who sit at work half in their houses and half in the
street. The coffee-houses and shops are all open, so that the
passers-by can obtain a full view of the wares and of the buyers and
sellers.
The regal palace is the handsomest in the town. It contains a
gothic chapel, richly decorated; the walls are entirely covered with
paintings in mosaic, of which the drawings do not display remarkable
taste, and the ceiling is over-crowded with decorations and
arabesques. An ancient chandelier, in the form of a pillar, made of
beautiful marble and also covered with arabesques, stands beside the
pulpit. On holydays an immense candle is put in this candlestick
and lighted.
I wished to enter this chapel, but was refused admittance until I
had taken off my hat, like the men, and carried it in my hand. This
custom prevails in several churches of Palermo. The space in front
of the palace resembles a garden, from the number of avenues and
beds of flowers with which it is ornamented. Second in beauty is
the palace of the senate, but it cannot be compared with that at
Messina.
The town contains several very handsome squares, in all of which we
find several statues and fountains.
Foremost among the churches the Cathedral must be mentioned; its
gothic facade occupies one entire side of a square. A spacious
entrance-hall, with two monuments, not executed in a very fine style
of art, leads into the interior of the church, which is of
considerable extent, but built in a very simple style. The pillars,
two of which always stand together, and the four royal monuments at
the entrance, are all of Egyptian granite. The finest part of the
church is the chapel of St. Rosalia on the right, not far from the
high altar; both its walls are decorated with large bas-reliefs in
marble, beautifully executed: one of these represents the
banishment of the plague, and the finding of St. Rosalia's bones. A
splendid pillar of lapis-lazuli, said to be the largest and finest
specimen of this stone in existence, stands beside the high altar.
The two basins with raised figures at the entrance of the church
also deserve notice. The left side of the square is occupied by the
episcopal palace, a building of no pretensions.
Santa Theresia is a small church, containing nothing remarkable
except a splendid bas-relief in marble, representing the Holy
Family, which an Englishman once offered to purchase for an immense
sum. The neighbouring church of St. Pieta, on the contrary, can be
called large and grand. The facades are ornamented with pillars of
marble, the altar is richly gilt, and handsome frescoes deck the
ceiling. St. Domenigo, another fine church, possesses, my cicerone
assured me, the largest organ in the world. If he had said the
greatest _he had seen_, I could readily have believed him.
In St. Ignazio, or Olivazo, near a minor altar at one side, we find
a painting representing the Virgin and the infant Jesus. The
sacristan persisted that this was a work of Raphael's. The
colouring appeared to me not quite to resemble that of the great
master, but I understand too little of these things to be able to
judge on such a subject. At any rate it is a fine piece. A few
steps below the church lies the oratory, which nearly equals it in
size, and also contains a handsome painting over the altar. "St.
Augustine" also repays the trouble of a visit; it displays great
wealth in marble, sculptures, frescoes, and arabesques. "St.
Joseph" is also rich in various kinds of marble. Several of its
large columns have been made from a single block. A clear cold
stream issues from this church.
I have still to notice the lovely public gardens, which I visited
after dining with the consul-general, Herr Wallenburg. I cannot
omit this opportunity of gratefully mentioning the friendly sympathy
and kindness I experienced on the part of this gentleman and his
lady. To return to the gardens,--the most interesting to me was the
botanical, where a number of rare trees and plants flourish famously
in the open air.
The catacombs of the Augustine convent are most peculiar; they are
situate immediately outside the town. From the church, which offers
nothing of remarkable interest, a broad flight of stairs leads
downwards into long and lofty passages cut in the rock, and
receiving light from above. The skeletons of the dead line the
walls, in little niches close beside each other; they are clothed in
a kind of monkish robe, and each man's hands are crossed on his
chest, with a ticket bearing his name, age, and the date of his
death depending therefrom. A more horrible sight can scarcely be
imagined than these dressed-up skeletons and death's-heads. Many
have still hair on the scalp, and some even beard. The niches in
which they stand are surmounted by planks displaying skulls and
bones, and the corridors are crowded with whole rows of coffins,
their inmates waiting for a vacant place. If the relations of one
of the favoured skeletons neglect to supply a certain number of wax-
tapers on All-Saints' day, the poor man is banished from his
position, and one of the candidates steps in and occupies his niche.
The corpses of women and girls are deposited in another compartment,
and look as though they were lying in state in their glass coffins,
dressed in handsome silks, with ornamental coifs on their heads,
ruffs and lace collars round their necks, and silk shoes and
stockings, which however soon burst, on their feet. A wreath of
flowers decks the brow of each girl, and beneath all this ornament
the skull appears with its hollow eyes--a parody upon life and
death.
Whenever any one wishes to be immortalised in this way, his friends
and relations must pay a certain sum for a place on the day of his
burial, and afterwards bring wax-tapers every year. The body is
then laid in a chamber of lime, which remains for eight months
hermetically closed, until the flesh has been entirely eaten away;
then the bones are fastened together, dressed, and placed in a
niche.
On All-Saints' day these corridors of death are crowded with gazers;
friends and relations of the deceased resort thither to light
candles and perform their devotions. I was glad to have had an
opportunity of seeing these audience-halls of the dead, but still I
rejoiced when I hastened upwards to sojourn once more among the
living.
From here I drove to Olivuzza, to view the Moorish castle of Ziza,
celebrated for the beauty of its situation and of the region around.
Not far from the old castle stands a new one, with a garden of much
beauty, containing also a number of fantastic toys, such as little
grottoes and huts, hollow trees in which secret doors fly suddenly
open, disclosing to view a nun, a monk, or some figure of the kind,
etc. Here I still found a species of date-tree growing in the open
air; but the fruit it bears is very small, and never becomes
completely ripe: this was the last date-tree I saw.
The royal villa "Favourite," about a mile from the town, is situated
in a lovely spot. It is built in the Chinese style, with a quantity
of points, gables, and little bells; its interior is, however,
arranged according to European design, in a rich, tasteful, and
artistic manner. We linger with pleasure in the rooms, each of
which offers some attractive feature. Thus, for instance, one
apartment contains beautiful fresco paintings; another, life-size
portraits of the royal family in Chinese costume; in a third, the
effects of damp on walls and ceiling are so accurately portrayed
that at first I was deceived by the resemblance, and regretted to
find a room in such a condition among all the pomp and splendour
around. One small cabinet is entirely inlaid with little pieces of
all the various kinds of marble that are to be found in Sicily. The
large tables are made of petrified and polished woods, etc. Besides
these minor attractions, a much greater one exists in the splendid
view which we obtain from the terraces and from the summit of the
Chinese tower. I found it difficult to tear myself from
contemplating this charming prospect; a painter would become
embarrassed by the very richness of the materials around him. Every
thing I had seen from on board here appeared before my eyes with
increased loveliness, because I here saw it from a higher position,
and obtained a more extended view.
An ornamental garden lies close to the palace. It is flagged with
large blocks of stone, between which spaces are left for earth.
These beds are parcelled out according to plans, bordered with box a
foot in height, and arranged so as to form immense leaves, flowers,
and arabesques; while in the midst stand vases of natural flowers.
The park fills up the background; it consists merely of a few
avenues and meadows, extending to the foot of Mount Rosalia.
This mountain I also ascended. The finest paved street, which is
sufficiently broad for three carriages to pass each other, winds in
a serpentine manner round the rocky heights, so that we can mount
upwards without the slightest difficulty.
The convent is small and very simply constructed; the courtyard
behind it, on the contrary, is exceedingly imposing. It is shut in
on all sides by steep walls of rock, covered with clinging ivy in a
most picturesque manner. On the left we find a little grotto
containing an altar. In the foreground, on the right, a lofty gate,
formed by nature and beautified by art, leads into a chapel
wonderfully formed of pieces of rock and stalactites. A feeling of
astonishment and admiration almost amounting to awe came upon me as
I entered. The walls near the chief altar are overgrown with a kind
of delicate moss of an emerald-green colour, with the white rock
shining through here and there; and in the midst rises a natural
cupola, terminating in a point. The extreme summit of this dome
cannot be distinguished; it is lost in obscurity. Here and there
natural niches occur, in which statues of saints have been placed.
To the left of the high altar I saw the monument of St. Rosalia,
beautifully executed in white marble. She is represented in a
recumbent posture, the size of life; the statue rests on a pedestal
two feet in height. In the most highly-decorated or the most
gorgeous church I could not have felt myself more irresistibly
impelled to devotion than in this grand temple of nature.
From the 15th to the 18th of July in every year a great feast is
held in honour of St. Rosalia, the patron saint of the city, in the
town and on the mountain. On these days a number of people make a
pilgrimage to the grotto above described, where the bones of the
saint were found at a time when the plague was raging at Palermo.
They were carried with great pomp into the town, and from that
moment the plague ceased.
The road from the convent to the temple, built on the summit of a
rock, and visible to the sailors from a great distance, leads us for
about half a mile over loose stones. Its construction is extremely
simple, and not remarkable in any way. In former times its summit
was decked by a colossal statue of the saint. This fell down, and
the head alone remained unmutilated. Like the statue, the fane is
now in ruins, and its site is only visited for the sake of the
beautiful view.
On our way back to the convent, my guide drew my attention to a spot
where a large tree had stood. Some years before, a family was
sitting quietly beneath its shade, partaking of a frugal meal, when
the tree suddenly came crashing down, and caused the death of four
persons.
The excursion to St. Rosalia's Hill can easily be made in four or
five hours. It is usual to ride up the mountain on donkeys; these
animals are, however, so sluggish, compared with those of Egypt,
that I often preferred dismounting and proceeding on foot. The
Neapolitan donkeys are just as lazy.
I wished still to visit Bagaria, the summer residence of many of the
townspeople. One morning I drove to this lovely spot in the company
of an amiable Swiss family. The distance from Palermo is about two
miles and a half, and the road frequently winding close to the sea,
presents a rich variety of beautiful pictures.
We went to view the palace of Prince Fascello: the proprietor
appears, however, seldom to reside here, for every thing wears an
air of neglect. Two halls in this building are worthy of notice;
the walls of the smaller one are covered with figures and ornaments,
beautifully carved in wood, with pieces of mirror glass placed
between them. The vaulted ceiling is also decorated with mirrors,
some of which are unfortunately already broken.
The walls of the larger hall are completely lined with the finest
Sicilian marble. Above the cornices the marble has been covered
with thin glass, which gives it a peculiar appearance of polish.
The immense ceiling of the great hall is vaulted like that of the
smaller one, and completely covered with mirrors, all of them in
good preservation. Both apartments, but particularly the large one,
are said to have a magical effect when lighted up with tapers.
I spent a Sunday in Palermo, and was much pleased at seeing the
peasants in their festive garb, in which, however, I could discover
nothing handsome; nor, indeed, any thing peculiar, save the long
pendent nightcaps. The men wear jackets and breeches, and have the
before-mentioned caps on their heads; the dress of the women is a
spencer, a petticoat, and a kerchief of white or coloured linen
round the head and neck.
The common people appeared to be neither cleanly nor wealthy. The
rich are dressed according to the fashions of London, Paris, and
Vienna.
In all the Sicilian towns I found the mob more boisterous and
impudent than in the East, and frequently it was my lot to witness
most diabolical quarrels and fights. It is necessary to be much
more on one's guard against theft and roguery among these people
than among the Arabs and Bedouins. Now I acknowledge how falsely I
had judged the poor denizens of the East when I took them for the
most thievish of tribes. The people here and at Naples were far
worse than they. I was doubly pained on making this discovery, from
the fact that I saw more fasting and praying, and more clergymen in
these countries than any where else. To judge from appearances, I
should have taken the Sicilians and Neapolitans for the most pious
people in the world. But their behaviour towards strangers is rude
in the extreme. Never had I been so impudently stared out of
countenance as in these Sicilian towns: fingers were pointed at me
amidst roars of laughter; the boys even ran after me and jeered at
me--and all because I wore a round straw hat. In Messina I threw
this article away, and dressed according to the fashion which
prevails here and in my own country; but still the gaping did not
cease. In Palermo it was not only the street boys who stood still
to gaze at me, the grandees also did me the same honour, whether I
drove or walked. I once asked a lady the reason of this, and
requested to know if my appearance was calculated either to give
offence or to excite ridicule; she replied that neither was the
case, but that the only thing the citizens remarked in me was that I
went about alone with a servant. In Sicily this was quite an
uncommon circumstance, for there I always saw two ladies walking
together, or a lady and gentleman. Now the grand mystery was
solved; but notwithstanding this, I did not alter my mode of action,
but continued to walk quietly about the town with my servant, for I
preferred being laughed at a little to giving any one the trouble of
accompanying me about every where. At first this staring made me
very uncomfortable; but man can adapt himself to every thing, and I
am no exception to the rule.
The vegetation in Sicily is eminent for its luxuriant loveliness.
Flowers, plants, and shrubs attain a greater height and magnitude
than we find elsewhere. I saw here numerous species of aloes, which
we cultivate laboriously in hot-houses, growing wild, or planted as
hedges around gardens. The stems, from which blossoms burst forth,
often attain a height of from twenty to thirty feet. Their
flowering season was already past.
October 10th.
After a sojourn of five days I bade farewell to Palermo, and took my
departure in wet weather. This was the first rain I had seen fall
since the 20th of April. The temperature remained very warm; on
fine days the thermometer still stood at 20 or 22 degrees Reaumur in
the sun at noon.
The vessel on which I now embarked was a royal mail-steamer. We
left Palermo at noon; towards evening the sea became rather rough,
so that the spray dashed over me once or twice, although I
continually kept near the steersman.
At the commencement of our journey nothing was to be seen but sky
and water. But the next day, as we approached the Neapolitan coast,
island after island rose from the sea, and at length the mainland
itself could be discerned. Capri was the first island we approached
closely. Soon afterwards my attention was drawn to a great cloud
rising towards the sky; it was a smoky column from the glowing
hearth of Vesuvius. At length a white line glittered on the verge
of the horizon, like a band through the clear air. There was a
joyful cry of "Napoli! Napoli!" and Naples lay spread before me.